Doom: Hell on Mars
by Dajun - Shinespark
Summary: A novelisation of Doom 3. After being transferred to the most inhospitable planet imaginable, the new marine must try and keep both himself and as many others as possible alive whilst trying to hunt down and stop the forces of Hell. Plz R&R.
1. Prolouge

**Author's notes: **This is basically a novel version of Doom 3 with some changes in terms of characters and detail based on my interpretation of the game. Might not ever finish it but who knows? Please tell me what you think, thanks.

**Doom: Hell on Mars**

**Prologue**

_This is the audio log of maintenance technician Adam Bernech, dated November 10__th__, 2145. I fixed the couplings on the heat shields this morning with no problems. I did however have another odd experience while I was down there. Shortly after finishing the first coupling adjustment, I distinctly heard whispering. When I went to investigate the sounds, I found nothing. I checked the work logs and I was the only person scheduled to be in that area today. That experience, coupled with the stories I've heard from some of the guys at Delta has me pretty freaked out. I'm really beginning to hate going down to the underground maintenance area. The people down there are a bit off. The mumblings, the weird looks, all places, just plain creepy. I'm always expecting someone to jump out at me…_

Beep.

_Dr Mark Caseon. At 15:37 patient Jonathan Wills was admitted after complaining of insomnia and nausea. According to the nurse, Mr Wills was calm and exhibited no signs of disorder when he was brought to exam room 6. However, by the time I reached him at ten after four, his personality had changed dramatically. When I entered the room, Mr Wills lunged at me with a scalpel he had apparently stolen from a supply drawer. With assistance of an orderly we managed to subdue and sedate him without injury. Mr Wills was heavily medicated and could not be diagnosed. But in the 20 minutes he was left unattended he managed to carve 3 symbols in his arm and, uh, cut his own tongue…into 2 halves. I can only guess as to the cause of his problems. I hope that the additional psychiatrists arrive soon…_

Beep.

_This is Mark Stanton, manifest controller, currently stationed at Mars City. I'm not sure who to send this to so I decided to send it to quite a few people. If you're on the recipient list, please take a moment to review this report. It's quite important. I'm very concerned over the shipping procedures out here. I am the manifest controller, and as such I need to be informed of everything coming in and out of Mars City. Someone here is subverting my position and preventing me from getting data on things being shipped. This is unacceptable! Not only could this reflect poorly on my upcoming review, but this is my job and I'm tired of being kept out of the loop. I have no idea who keeps telling the shipping crews to allow things in and out without allowing me to produce or procure the manifest, but whoever it is, it must stop. One of the dock workers actually told me to piss off when I tried to stop one of the last containers from going straight to Delta. I immediately filed a report and will follow up with a transit manager, next time I see him. End of log._

Counsellor Swann pressed the stop button and sighed deeply, emerged in his thoughts. Beside him, his bodyguard, Campbell, observed him carefully and paid extra attention not to interrupt the man; he knew Swann well enough to know that he didn't like to be taken out of his own world without permission.

"Hear that?" Swann muttered without looking up and handed the PDA to his bodyguard, "Over two hundred employees have either died in horrific accidents or resigned their posts in the last four months with billions of dollars burning up in the process." He gave Campbell a slight glance and even through his dark sunglasses, the former marine could see the worry in the Counsellor's eyes. "It's a wonder how the UAC has ignored it for so long."

Campbell scanned through the seemingly endless lists on the small tray like device before him. Nearly twenty-gigabyte worth of audio files and significant E-mails, all suggesting a rather gruesome situation of which they came from. "I'm no scientist or diplomat," He spoke in his deep and harsh voice, devoid of obvious emotion, "But this Delta complex doesn't sound like something those corporate loonies would authorise to exist. Nothing useful came out of that area in years and yet according to this, over eighty percent of the budget from Mars are being directed there…"

Swann nodded as he dug through his memories; the Delta complex has always been rather mysterious. In every annual report, it was always tucked away at the bottom of the pile, as though hidden, only to be viewed by the very highest of positions within the UAC. And even then, most of them don't seem to know even half of what's going on round there these days. "It's not these messages that disturbs me," Swann admitted after a few moments of silence, "It's the lack of cooperation from Dr. Betrugar. No matter how you look at this guy, he _is_ the lead scientist on Mars…"

"What does that matter?" The bodyguard butted in, "He has no political power…" He paused slightly, considering his next few words, "At least he shouldn't have… what happened to that Noble woman? Shouldn't she be the one to answer your calls?"

"Not anymore…" Swann grimaced at the memories; the photos still haunted him to this day, how the poor woman laid on her bed, half naked with knife slashes all over her body. Whoever did that to her must have been one seriously sadistic individual, he used to think, but that was until the doctors came back with the results to the analysis. _The wounds were self-inflicted; Sarah Noble had a high record of psychological breakdowns during her time on Mars. It's no surprise, really…_ Someone tampered with the results, they must have. Sarah was capable of a lot of things but self-mutilation and eventual suicide was not one of them. "Betrugar's in control now, and whether we like it or not, we're going to have to speak with him." He sighed yet again and removed his sunglasses whilst rubbing his eyes under the exhaustion; voyages to Mars were never a stroll in the park but Swann knew that this came from elsewhere. "A lot of people are ready to rip my head off if this investigation doesn't go according to plan, Campbell. If you know Betrugar as well as I do, things won't be pretty…"

The navigation system whirled to life as the ship began its final decent into Martian orbit. Almost subconsciously, Swann held on to his PDA and shut his eyes; the UAC never forgive or forget, and this time, he might just be that policy's latest victim…


	2. Strange New World

**Chapter 1: A New World**

"Dark Star 1, this is Martian air control, the fourth window is open. Follow our instructions and prepare to leave orbit."

_"Roger that, control, we are entering the atmosphere as we speak. See you planet side."_

"Roger that, over and out." The young man switched on the visual display and watched silently as the large transport vessel vibrated under heavy turbulence. A gloved hand rested upon his shoulder and for a split second, a cold dread filled his heart as he pulled a uneasy smile at his scar faced superior, who's disturbingly pale skin glowed under the blood red Martian atmosphere. "They're on their way, Dr. Betrugar, at their current velocity they'll reach bay four in ten minutes."

The doctor kept his hand firmly on the young man's shoulder, causing the latter to sweat uncomfortably whilst he contemplated the UAC's message. His cold right eye scanned the readings without paying much attention whilst his other eye remained firmly pointed straight ahead, having been made empty and lifeless long ago by some forgotten accident. One of the many mistakes the UAC was prepared to cover up. "Good," He whispered after a considerable pause, "Send them to me as soon as possible…"

"Yes sir."

The marine took his exit behind the two VIPs as the ship's docking mechanisms gripped against the rusty landing pad. For the briefest of moments, he could not even see his own hands before his face as the lack of illumination and the prospect of his near future sank in. The assignment was a surprise, a spontaneous decision with him finding out by seeing his things packed and ready to move out. _Welcome to Mars City_, the computer had said as they landed, _all new arrivals must sign in at Administration. All VIPs, please report to Dr. Betrugar's office ASAP. On behalf of the UAC, please enjoy your day._

Indeed, he thought as he watched the two VIPs in question involved in a hushed discussion with the bald, suited man in front and his marine guard close behind. "I can't believe it's come to this," The bald one said whilst giving the near by marines an odd look, apparently surprised with the sheer number of security guarding such a small landing bay, "Believe it or not, I didn't want to come here."

The man behind him nodded and double-checked the massive case he was carrying, which was big enough to fit an entire person. "He left you no choice," He stated in a matter of fact tone.

"True," The counsellor sighed as he glanced at his watch whilst painfully noticing that they were behind schedule, something else the UAC doesn't tolerate very well. "But this is the last time. Frankly both the UAC and myself are getting tired of running damage control every time he makes a mess." Despite this, however, he couldn't help but feel somewhat uneasy, as though this was going to be more than just a routine trip. Was it the odd looks of the workers? Or perhaps the fact that even from here; Betruger seemed to be watching their every step…

The six foot body guard placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder, reminding him that he wasn't alone and judging from the look on his face, he too were feeling some what uncomfortable despite the bravado impression he tried to put on. "Right, you're the control," The counsellor nodded in appreciation but silently behind him, his bodyguard added: "And if that fails, I'm the damage." The two walked away and was greeted by a special welcoming party at the other side of the platform, who remained diligently quiet and as professional as one could expect; there would be no balloons or drinks to welcome _anyone _on this planet.

The new marine, on the other hand, was urged by anxious looking guards along with others to move as quickly as possible. It would seem as though the UAC was getting desperate for more and more meat to shove into the grinder. As they made their way across the dimly lit platforms, his eyes began to adjust to the darkness and what they saw didn't make them feel any better; every piece of equipment and man made structure in sight was in dire need of repair and a good scrubbing. The metal stairs was covered in grime and Martian mud whilst the pipe covered walls reeked of wastes amongst other things. Whoever designed this place obviously wasn't in such a brilliant mood on the day as he felt the very dread and gloom of the atmosphere chocking him into submission. Along the monorail, a cluster of seats hung loosely on cracked and rusted bolts and upon it sat a frail looking man who took little notice to their presence and shifted uncomfortably back and forth on his seat whilst looking nervously at his watch. One brief look at the guards and he quickly went back to his self imposed trance as he constantly muttered how he must get off of this rock and that if the others had any sense at all, they would do the same.

A few more stairs later and he stopped in front of a heavy set of doors as one after the other, the men stepped inside; from that point onwards, he knew there would be no turning back. _We're sending you to Mars, marine. You may not say anything in response and should you disobey this order, you will be sentenced without trial. Any and all questions will be answered once you arrive at Mars City but until then, you have the right to remain silent._ The words carved themselves into his mind: it wasn't so much that he had much to miss back on Earth, it was more to do with the fact that no explanation was given and based on what he had seen so far, they never will.

The UAC cares about the safety and well being of all its employees. Please take full advantage of our top-end medical facilities and if you have any queries, no matter how large or small, feel free to ask nearby security personnel for assistance…

The heavy doors parted and by the time the marine had stepped out of Administration, he was pumped with more propaganda than an afternoon of Sunday television. Before him, stood in a small cluster, were the newly assigned marines just like him; most of them were young with seemingly no idea as to why they were there, nor did they look as though they liked it. And he could see why, for other than a few old vending machines and the odd space painting on the walls, the interior of Mars City was little better than the exterior: the floors, walls and ceilings were kept more or less clean but whilst he explored his immediate surroundings, sparks constantly erupted from random electrics and more than half of the fluorescent lighting did not function whilst the rest struggled to maintain sustained illumination.

"You would've thought that a company rich enough to own a planet would be able to at least afford some decent lights," A young private near him joked whilst nearby guards urged them to move on, but before he even took a single step, the marine's recently assigned PDA buzzed into life as a new E-mail was received and what he saw didn't make him feel much better. Without informing anyone else, he broke away from the group and tried his best to follow the signs that would lead him to Marine HQ. Arriving on an alien environment was one thing, but getting a personally invitation from the Sarge himself was simply beyond a coincidence. _Those uptight bastards really want me to suffer._

Within seconds, however, the marine found himself wondering from one end of the public zone to the other as corridor after corridor turned out to share the same décor and with no other differences; it was a wonder how anyone could prevent themselves from getting lost around here. By now, he was more or less cut off from the others and seeing workers ignoring or even shifting away from him weren't comforting sights either. But it was only about to get worse.

"I'm here because there seems to be very serious problems." A voice drifted from one of the obscure rooms behind him, catching his attention.

"Oh really?" Came the reply, a harsh tone belonging to someone who has obviously never heard of going out, "Do I really need to remind you of the groundbreaking work we're doing here?"

"No." The first voice, which the marine suddenly recognised as the bald counsellor from the landing bay, replied in a slightly defeated tone, "But I've been authorized by the board to look at everything."

There was a slight pause in which the one in question was apparently surprised by this turn of events as the embarrassing silence stretched on. Rather reluctantly and with a vengeance, he seemed to regain his posture, "The board authorized you?" He considered whilst deep signs of hatred swelled up in his throat, "Hmm, the board doesn't know the first thing about science. All they want is something to make them more money, some _product_… Don't worry, they'll get their _product_…"

"After how many more accidents?" The counsellor cut in, his frustrations were clear, "Tell me, Dr. Betruger, why are so many workers spooked, complaining, requesting transfers off Mars?"

"What can I say? They simply can't handle life here," The doctor chuckled slightly as though it was all a big joke, "They're exhausted and overworked. If I had a larger, more competent staff, and a bigger budget, then even these few accidents could have been avoided."

The counsellor sighed, as it was clear that things were not going well, "I'm afraid you'll get nothing more until my report is filled with the board. I will need full access, Betruger, Delta included," He emphasised on this last part, which seemed to draw yet more awkwardness into the conversation, "I won't have any difficulties doing that, will I?"

The doctor gave a slight hiss of annoyance only to be cut short as he noticed that it was more than _noticeable_, but nevertheless, the hatred for the man standing opposite him was obvious. "Only if you get lost, Swann. Just stay out of my way." Sounds of rustling paper suggested that he was about to leave and noticing that nothing more was to come out of this meeting, the man known as Swann too began to pack away his files, ready to begin his investigation. But before he could do so, Betruger added with a slightly sinister tone: "Amazing things will happen here soon. You just wait."


	3. Missing Personnel

**Chapter 2: Missing Personnel**

Dr. Jonathan Ishii from the Delta Science Team is missing. Security is concerned that he may be injured and unable to respond to pages or return to his post. Please keep an eye out for Dr. Ishii and report to UAC Security if he is located.

As the minutes passed, more and more people walked past him as they went about their daily business. They never paused, never stopped to ask who he was, and never had he seen such dreary look on one's face, as though the very meaning of life has been sucked out of their features and spat out. After all, a corporation as large as the UAC can't afford to get anything less than maximum efficiency from its staff.

But even so, these workers could not hide the fact that something was clearly wrong. One might not take notice at first or even care, but as the marine got closer and closer to Marine HQ, the voices and rumours became downright disturbing.

_Delta Labs is looking for individuals to fill critical positions. You can help with our exciting break-through work and earn credits at the same time._ The broadcast repeated itself yet again, as though hypnotizing the citizens to obey and agree to everything it said and whilst no one dared to complain about it, they were clearly unhappy.

"Heard about what happened to Jones the other day?" One of the maintenance workers whispered to his co-worker in the corner as he fixed some obscure systems that buzzed and sparked uncontrollably, indicating some sort of overload, "He started poking his nose around and got transferred; fast. Didn't even see him leave."

"Nobody did," The man took a spare second to reply as he readjusted his wielding mask, "He was here one second, gone the next. Lucky bastard…" And so it went on; the constant rumour drilled into his skull as he approached the transparent double doors that would lead him to his commanding officer, which as far as he knew was not someone to be trifled with. Sergeant Kelly: the mere mentioning of the name was enough to send shivers down the spines of even the hardest of marines. The man's intolerance to failure was almost legendary and being assigned to an isolated planet with virtually no activities was hardly going to make him any better.

"You took sweet time getting here, marine," The albino man sneered with a hint of deadly warning in his voice; all around him, members of staff and security went about their business in relative silence, terrified of what the volatile Sergeant might do. "We're short handed as it is, need I remind you that efficiency is the key to survival?"

The marine shook his head slightly and tried to keep a straight face with all signs of emotions tucked away into the back of his mind, which was more or less exactly what everyone else was trying to do. Somehow, he felt as though the man would work better with machines than people.

The Sarge took a moment to take in the presence of the newest recruit, mentally measuring his size and appearance whilst constantly calculating what would be the best way to subdue and discipline him for he never did trust the training regimes back on Earth; he always wanted to introduce his own unique methods but for some strange reason, they were always judged as somewhat _inhuman_ by everyone else's standards. Still, fact remained that as the highest-ranking commanding officer on Mars, many of the normal procedures tended to bend towards _his _philosophy whilst others were simply ignored. "I take it that you are enjoying your stay?" He bared his teeth slightly like a hungry wolf ready to tear apart a fresh victim.

"In a manner." The marine replied without bothering to add any details; he knew quite well that the Sarge has been briefed concerning his transfer and even at that moment, he could feel the man silently making mental notes of how to make this hell like environment even more unpleasant.

"Well I'm afraid that'll have to come to an end." He whispered whilst leaning towards him until their noses were touching. He easily towered over the marine but despite this, the latter refused to show any signs of intimidation. Somewhat disappointed, the Sarge regained his posture and went back to business. "As you would no doubt be aware, one of the scientists has gone missing." He turned his back and pressed a button on a nearby console, causing a life sized hologram of the scientist to emerge before the marine. "His name is Dr. Ishii from the Delta division and since you're currently the lowest ranking security personnel in this facility, you get to find him."

The marine tensed slightly at this latest remark: _security personnel? Lowest ranking? Is that what they've reduced me to? Just another guy with a gun?_ He clenched his fists in rage and struggled to maintain his emotionless appearance as everything began to make sense: _so that's why I'm here. The suits couldn't think of a way to get rid of me, so instead they sent me to Mars where at most I'll just become a glorified security guard._

"Is there a problem with that?" The Sarge leaned forward again as the smell of cigarettes filled the marine's lungs up to the brim. With newfound understanding of his current position, he had no choice but to once again shake his head whilst his superior smiled in a smug and disturbing way as he handed to him a tiny magnetic chip. "Stick that in your PDA," He ordered, "It'll give you level 1 security clearance and in case you're wondering, that's all you'll ever going to get. You are now part of Alpha Squad. Don't ask why, just listen: you are going to meet up with them and hand over this…" He shoved some sort of plastic card into his hands, "They'll understand. From now on, you'll also report to Captain Jackson and follow his every command. He'll explain the rules and procedures around here." With another faked smile, the Sarge turned his back on the marine and left him to his own thoughts.

So this is what it's like trying to do the right thing…

"You still here?!" Without warning, the Sarge turned around and grabbed him by the collar of his green T-shirt and slammed him against a nearby wall with a mammoth like force. "Listen, pal, in case you haven't noticed: I don't like to be kept waiting. I gave you a direct order and if you don't like it you can shove it up your ass! Now move out!"

* * *

_IPN news network, you're universe today. Good Evening, I'm Mark Stine and here's the news. The Union Aerospace Corporation denied allegations today of several reports showing a growing military presence on Mars. A spokesperson stated that increased activity is simply a tactical deployment to outlying planetary sectors._

"Denied? Huh, I'd like to see what they're definition of 'increasing' is…"

Whilst the rest of Mars City looked like the staging ground for the latest Horror Special, the Alpha Common Room had at least tried to be more than just functional. With clean grey floors and several magazines on the table, it was nice to see a change in atmosphere around the complex, even if it was a small one. From across the sofas stood a small built in table with comfortable looking chairs, upon which sat two marines, one of who chatted excitedly to the other, who looked less enthusiastic. Their lack of armour or weapons suggested that they were off duty but even so, there was a constant sense of uneasiness in the air. Near the kitchen area stood a massive Nigerian man, who stared intently at the television mounted on the top corner of the room, though upon closer inspection, his eyes looked unfocused as though someone in a daydream.

"Come on!" From the other side of the room came the hushed chants of a small yet angry looking fellow, who was bent low over some low budget arcade game whilst constantly tapping a big red button, sending a steady stream of cheap sound effects as the player's fist pounded again and again into the defenceless turkey. Quite how anyone could find such a novelty amusing was beyond the new marine but on the back of his head, he noted that possibly in the not too distant future, his tastes too will be deducted to this.

"So anyway, heard about what happened to Bravo?" One of the younger members of Alpha Squad continued to try and gain the interest of his audience, oblivious to the new marine's presence, "One of their guys got transferred, said something about finding him in his quarters trying to summon the dead." He chuckled slightly, "Wonder who they'll send as their replacement…"

"Probably you," Came the reply, which sounded almost alien to the new marine as he suddenly realised that he hasn't seen a female in the last two days, "Looks like they already sent _your_ replacement." She stood up and wore a genuine smile on her face as she tried to show some sort of welcome, which wasn't much. "You must be the new guy. I'm Lt. Jane Chasar, second in command of Alpha Squad." She gave a formal salute and indicated at the others, "This here is Private Simon Lance, over there's Lt. Nathan Kane and you can probably work out who our commanding officer is." She gave the short stumpy one a quick glance with a rather disgusted look on her face.

When the man in question gave no sign of noticing what was happening, the new marine shook Chasar's outstretched hand and gave Lance and Kane a quick nod, before handing over the card; Sarge might have told him to give it to Alpha's leader, but seeing the guy hunched over a videogame where the prime objective was to inject pain and misery to a turkey, he figured that it probably would have been better to give the mission briefing to a slightly more _sane_ individual.

"Dr. Ishii, huh?" Chasar shook her head as she headed over to her superior and tapped him on the shoulder, "Sir, looks like we're gonna have to cut our break short." The man gave no audible answer as he stared with a mad look on his face at his current score, either deaf or careless to the outside world. Sighing, she tried a different approach, "Sir! Civilian babes at six o'clock!"

In less than half a second, the man paused the game and spun around like an Elvis impressionist and gave a cheeky smile to where he thought the women were, only to see the new marine instead. "Very funny, mouse cheeks," His smile quickly diminished as he gave the new marine a quick observation before going back to his game, "But next time at least _try_ to make him look like a girl, do I make myself clear?" And before long, the guy was once again sucked into the complete idiocy of his game, causing his second in command to constantly try to snap him out of it all, to which he simply ignored by sticking his middle finger at any and everyone in the room. A few seconds later, however, the machine beeped and flashed as the message: HIGH SCORE buzzed again and again.

"Oh yeah! Who's the boss now! The Duke, that's who!" He moonwalked up and down the common room whilst performing his own little dance, to which the others struggled hard not to laugh at. A few more flashes later and a message popped up in the middle of the screen. "Congratulations," He read aloud, "You have just set a new high score. Your parents can now sleep soundly at night knowing that the product of their madness have managed yet another great achievement. Since you have just wasted over an hour or so punching a helpless turkey instead of doing your job, however, your personal vacation has been automatically docked two days…" He froze at the sudden awkwardness and before anyone could make a wise remark, he shut down the machine and snatched the mission briefing from Chasar's hands, all the time trying to look professional but failing miserably.

"Right," He announced with a deliberate macho voice, "As you all must know, our valiant Sergeant Kelly has once again entrusted us to fulfil a dangerous and important duty. Dr. Ishii of, uh," He took a quick glance at the information, "Of the Delta Division must be found no matter what the cost. And if we must lay down our lives to accomplish this task, then we would do it proud knowing that we have not died in vain…"

"Oh shut up, Henry, it's just recon," Chasar signalled the others to move out and gave the new marine a slight wink, "Just ignore him, you'll find it much easier that way." And with that, she took back her card without so much an indication of asking for permission and left the common room with Kane close behind. Lance, on the other hand, continued to look at the new marine apprehensively, trying to hide the strangely amazed look on his face.

"So, what do you call yourself?" He blurted out, unable to control his excitement of finally seeing a new face, "Do you have a nickname like the rest of us? I'm the Kid by the way. What about you? What did they call you back on Earth? Killer? Destructor? Doomguy?"

The new marine gave the young man a slight smile as he recalled the countless names he was once known by back in the day, each of which reminded him even more how much he missed his old colleagues. _But who knows? Maybe I'll learn to somehow fit in amongst these guys._ "Call me Taggart. Flynn Taggart."


End file.
